Page 80 of Puck Prince

My uncle squeezes my shoulder and makes his way back to his seat.

I sigh. I hate lying to him, but I also don’t need them grilling me about my symptoms. I get sick on planes now. It’s a recent update to the Callie Coleman software. The end.

“Peanut butter cups, huh?” I can hear the smile in Owen’s voice.

“You’d know that if you’d been polite and asked me what my favorite dessert was.”

He grins, and I can’t help the small smile on my lips, too. “My bad. Are you a Reese’s girl or does anything go?”

“Reese’s. Justin’s. Butterfinger. Anything peanut butter, really.”

“Good to know.”

The electricity that seems to find its way into the air whenever we are too close to each other is back, making everything around me feel staticky. I don’t fight the conversation, though. If nothing else, it’s distracting me from my nausea.

“You and your uncle are tight,” Owen notes. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, he basically raised me.”

Owen glances over at me, not saying anything. He isn’t pushing me to go on, but for some reason, I figure,why not?

“My parents were around, but, like, not. You know? They were there physically, taking care of things, keeping the house nice. We had a big house. Very cookie-cutter neighborhood with a park and pool and a pergola.”

“A golden retriever?” he guesses.

“Goldendoodle.”

He winces. “Even worse.”

I laugh. “But it was just the default stock photo of the happy family that comes with the picture frame—all for show.”

“I get that.” Owen nods. There’s a jolt in the plane, a sudden moment of turbulence, and I jump. He grabs my hand, squeezing it.

Swallowing back the wave of nausea, I go on. “My parents were… cold. Like, they had everything, but weren’t happy. They didn’t kiss; they didn’t flirt. They were almost robotic with each other.Then, when I was thirteen, I found out my mom had cheated on my dad. A lot.”

“Ouch.” Owen is still holding my hand.

“Yeah. Then I found out he isn’t even my real dad.”

I can hear Owen suck in a sharp breath. “Wow. Double ouch. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. After that, everything just felt so disconnected. Fake. I started spending a lot of time with Kennedy, and after a while, I went home less and less. Uncle Randy knew what I was going through and took me in. Stepped up. That was a first. I wasn’t used to anyone stepping up.”

“Well, I’m sorry you went through that.” He says, and I can tell he’s being genuine.

“I’m not. The years I spent with Kennedy and Uncle Randy were some of the best years of my childhood. He’s the reason I am where I am now.”

“Still, it sucks that your mom cheated.”

I think about that and concede the point with a shrug. And with more walls down than I intend, I charge forward. “I guess that’s why I got upset after you and I… well… you know. I was under the impression you were in a relationship and?—”

Owen pulls his hand away. “I wasn’t. I’m not.”

He looks horrified enough that I’m inclined to believe him. It’s a relief, but that doesn’t explain the woman with the baby.

Before I can muster up the courage to ask, he charges ahead. “If I’m being honest, I’ve never been in a relationship. Until now.”

Our eyes meet, and his are stormy. The blue is murky and unreadable like everything else about this man.

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